An enchanting Christmas tale.

“Greys and reds in a sea of tepid baubles. Santa’s beard stained with the urine of death, the inevitability of his own demise. His presents, tossed blithely into his dingy brown sack barely totalled 32. Hardly enough for a world population of seven billion. He would have to make cutbacks. Rudolph swung from a nearby noose, his dessicated and wretched penis like some sort of horrifying sock puppet, dangled pitifully between his legs, his balls, soft and decaying. Santa wept. The clock ticked on to 12:00. It was time.”


About neilstilwell

Abseiling into trouble, a sewer rat staring at the stars. Disgusting. You can assist my search for the one ring by buying a Kindle version of this diary from here. It has some other stuff in it, and a dreadful cover.
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